Three In The Morning
by AmelieNine
Summary: Eliza goes to the kitchen one night looking for a midnight snack, only to find the Professor there too. They talk and some stuff happens. Heehee.


Three In The Morning

Eliza yawned, her big brown eyes feeling tired and heavy. She blinked rapidly in an effort to stay awake, but alas, the lethargy remained. She had just finished going over her list of titles, and blimey, were there a lot! _I must've read this a million times_! It didn't help much that the list was scrawled in the Professor's barely legible handwriting, nor the fact that it was well past three in the morning.

She sighed, reasoning to herself that her attempts to memorise any more at this point were undeniably futile. She stood up from her bed, her eyes half open as her feet felt the floor for her slippers. _Ah, there you are. _She slipped on the slippers and stretched her long arms in front of her, yawning once more and making an unusual sound, similar to that of a baby dinosaur's, as she did so. Shaking off the grogginess she felt, she walked out of the room. Yes, that's right, a good snack is what's called for. _I wonder where the Professor keeps his chocolates_, she thought to herself.

"I could've danced all night, hmmmm... la la la la..." she hummed as she walked to the kitchen, squinting her eyes as they got accustomed to the light. _Wait... light?_ The kitchen lights were already on. She heard the closing of a drawer, followed by the shuffling of feet. Somebody else was up. At three o'clock. In the bloody morning. Her eyes widened, hoping it wasn't any of the male help or - God forbid - the Professor himself. She looked down at her nightgown. Well, it wasn't exactly inappropriate per se, it went down below her knees. She brushed off the thought and took a deep breath. Walking very slowly now, she carefully poked her head through the kitchen entry.

_Speak of the devil, it IS Professor Higgins. _

There he was, sitting at the table, staring into space. It was so unlike him to be doing… well, _nothing_. A pang of sympathy hit Eliza, it must've been something to do with him looking so lost, like a little boy. Or a puppy. Or something. How odd, feeling sympathetic for Professor Higgins. I mean, it's _Professor Higgins, _come on! Usually, he would be the one up and running, getting things done and ordering people about, that sort of thing. Eliza pondered over that thought for a moment, and tried to think of a time when he just sat down and relaxed. _Let's see, there was that one time... he was in his study and he... no, he wasn't... or that other time in the library, he was... well..._ Eliza sighed. _Never. _Well, she wasn't going to attempt to find out whatever the matter was; he hardly ever talks about his feelings. Not even to his closest friends. _What more to a squashed cabbage leaf._

"Professor?" she breathed in a small voice, still feeling groggy.

She watched as his head shot up, his back still facing her. He immediately recognised that voice, oh, that _wonderful_ voice he had heard so much of in the past few months, his ears were just about ready to _bleed_. "Eliza!" he said, half startled and half angry that she had snuck up on him while he was in the midst of being very un-Henry-like. "What the devil are you doing up at this ghastly hour? I thought I told you to get a good night's rest!"

He turned to face her.

There she stood, tall and thin, her large eyes half open as she gazed at him sleepily, a lazy smile plastered on her face. There was something about her posture that told him that she didn't give a damn at all about whatever it was he was saying. Her hair was disheveled, long and brown, falling just below her shoulders and her fringe sat above her eyebrows. There was something so very amusing about her appearance, Henry couldn't help but chuckle. She could still look adorable at three in the morning! But he would never, _ever_ admit that he found her delightful.

"Well, I was just about to have a little snack," she said cheerfully. She walked over to the table and pulled up a chair next to him. "I was studying the list you gave me this morning," she beamed and sat down, feeling more at ease with her teacher. Actually, he could be very charming when he wasn't being all mean and miserable. Like that night when they danced together. Her mind drifted for a moment as she recalled the thought. Oh, she could do _that_ all over again. Her cheeks turned pink remembering the thoughts she had about him as she lay in bed that night, smiling giddily. Perhaps she could request some lessons in dance to prepare her for the ball...

"... keep that up, we shall have you ready for the ball in no time at all!" Henry gave her a firm pat on the back, proud of his favourite (though he would never admit it) student. Eliza snapped out of her reverie and looked at him, nodding and smiling. How long had he been talking?

"Well, Eliza," he said, getting up from his chair and pacing the kitchen, apparently looking for something. "Since you've been such a good, hardworking girl today, shall we have some..." Eliza's eyes lit up as she grinned at the Professor. "Chocolates...?" she whispered, walking over to where he was standing. He pulled out a box, and grinned back. "Correct," he replied, handing the box to Eliza.

She beamed and looked down at the box. She noticed the label on the top left hand corner. Belgian chocolates?! Her mouth dropped opened in delight. Only the best chocolates in the world! She looked back up at Henry, her eyes full of wonder, _Since when did you become so nice?_ "Professor, you are such a DEAR!" she squealed as she lunged at him, flinging her arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank YOU!" Henry almost fell backward in surprise, they've never been very touchy feely before this so he wasn't quite sure of how to respond. _Goodness me, __this girl _really _loves__ her chocolates..._

"Eliza!" He boomed, starting to feel that she had been hugging him longer than she should have. Definitely longer than what was deemed appropriate. "Release me this instant!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She let him go and backed away sheepishly, straightening her nightgown. Eliza immediately regretted her giddy behaviour as she looked at his annoyed expression. Awkwardly, she brushed off strands of her hair that had gotten onto his shirt. It looked like someone had gone back to being mean and miserable. Oh, joy. "Thank you very much for the chocolates, Professor." She said politely and returned to her seat.

"Ah, yes. Um, you're very welcome," he said walking over to the table. He was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable, what with being alone with a woman in the wee hours of the morning. _Oh, if anybody saw, they would think…_ He shuddered thinking about the all the possible misconceptions that could and _would_ arise if anybody were to walk in on them. "Actually, Eliza, you enjoy those chocolates. I really am devilishly sleepy and I best be on my way –" he said, starting to leave.

Eliza's eyes widened, looking hurt. She turned to face him. "Oh, _do_ have some as well, Professor," she breathed, a tinge of sadness in her voice. Henry looked away. "I'm afraid that won't be necessary, but carry on, don't let me stop you –" "Oh no, _please_," she insisted, patting the seat of the chair he had been sitting on, the other hand tugging at his. Her big brown eyes looked up at him hopefully.

Henry sighed irritably as he looked down at her. Ugh, he hated this face she always made whenever she wanted something, it made it so damned difficult for him to say no. Well, he couldn't say no now, could he? _Damn her adorability! _He grumbled and sat back down, pulling a long face and crossing his arms, much like a sulky little boy.

Eliza only smirked at how he was behaving. She smiled and got up to prepare some tea. Henry however, was less than relaxed, impatiently drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Eliza, do hurry," he grumbled. "I want to return to my damned bed and so should you, or else we _both_ might end up oversleeping!" He looked over at her. She, however, wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying, humming and cheerful. _How could _anybody_ be so bloody happy at three in the morning? _he thought, shaking his head.

Once done, Eliza set out two cups on the table and poured the warm tea into both before sitting down in her own chair. "There we are," she murmured. Henry smiled politely at her. He took his cup and sipped some tea. She took her cup and sipped some tea. He took a chocolate. She took a chocolate. Henry cleared his throat. "Very nice chocolates," he mumbled. "Oh, indeed," she answered. A few more moments of awkward silence passed.

Eliza exhaled and put her cup down. "Professor, I would just like to express how terribly sorry I am about what happened the other day," she said, afraid to look at him. Henry, puzzled by this sudden change in topic, looked at her quizzically. "What happened?" he asked. "What day?"

Eliza looked down. Oh, sometimes he could be so daft, he couldn't have possibly forgotten already? For a book-learned gentleman who's memorised all sorts of sonnets and poems, his memory could have done so much better. She sighed, closing her eyes, feeling the guilt envelope her. When she spoke, her voice was small. "About what happened at…" She looked around, checking to see if anybody was near, then leaned in closer. "At the races," she whispered in his ear.

The Professor couldn't believe his ears. Oh, how could he forget that _infamous_ incident. Eliza quickly tried to explain herself, afraid that the Professor might get angry. "It's just that that Dover was moving awfully slow! Why, _I_ could've done better!"

To Eliza's relief however, Henry looked at her worried expression and couldn't help but laugh, amused at her behavior. Eliza's expression changed from worried to surprised. Henry only laughed louder, seeing how shocked she looked. Why wasn't he yelling at her? Or giving her one of his lectures? Slowly, a small smile began to form on Eliza's face, relieved that he did neither. "Oi!" She hit him on the arm, a slight Cockney twang in her accent. "He honestly was!" She grabbed her teaspoon and pointed it at Henry. "Look me in the eye and tell me he wasn't!" she threatened, a silly grin on her face.

Henry only smirked. "He was, Eliza." He took the teaspoon from her hand. "He was."

Eliza looked into his eyes and smiled. "You're not angry?" she asked, her voice soft. "Angry?" Henry looked at her incredulously. "No! It was really rather funny, actually." He sipped a bit of his tea before continuing. "In fact, it sounds like something I would've done. Bravo!" he beamed, chuckling. "Now, don't you worry your pretty little head over things like that. They all pass eventually." Henry regretted saying 'pretty' in that sentence and hoped that she hadn't noticed but, oh yes, she did.

Eliza's eyes narrowed as she looked at him, smiling shyly. "You actually _care_ about me, don't you, Professor?" she teased, her fingers making circles in the table. She shuffled her chair closer, bumping her knees against his.

Henry straightened his back and looked away. He shuffled his own chair further away from her, looking grumpily at a small spot on the wall. He hated it whenever she got into one of these _insufferable _moods. He hated it because he found it very difficult to stay angry with her whenever she was being adorable.

"Now, really, Eliza, if you're trying to butter me up, it's not working," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

She gazed at him dreamily and rested her head in her hand, supported by her elbow on the table. "Yes, of course." Her other hand that had been dangling across the back of the chair, stretched as she turned to place both elbows on the table. Unfortunately, for both Eliza and Henry, she ended up whacking the Professor's head instead.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing the spot on his temple. "Confounded woman! How dare you -"

"Professor, I'm terribly sorry!" She exclaimed, her expression aghast.

"You bloody well should be! Bloody_ attacking_ me for no reason, why, I –"

"Ow, bloody 'ell, Professor, _shhh_!" she interrupted in annoyance, she leaned towards him, putting a finger to her lips. Her Cockney accent had become more evident, both Henry and herself noticed. That only ever happened when she was swearing or frustrated (hence, the infamous incident at Ascot). Henry noticed that too and stopped talking. Eliza sighed and shook her head. She turned back to face Henry. "Let's not wake the whole house!" she said in a raised whisper.

Gently, she took his head in her hands. "Oh, poor dear…" she whispered, her eyes full of worry as she looked at his head. She honestly didn't know her own strength and Henry had no idea either. Trying to be as delicate as possible, she tenderly stroked the spot where she had hit him.

"Better?" she asked.

"No." he replied grumpily. As if bloody _caressing_ it was going to make it any better.

Her expression softened and she breathed in. She leaned forward and kissed his temple softly, her hands holding his head. She broke the kiss, exhaled and leaned her forehead against his for a moment before pulling away.

"Better?" she breathed, her voice softer this time.

Henry cleared his throat and looked down, feeling the heat rise up to his cheeks and hoping desperately his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Much."

Their faces were inches away from each other now. Her breathing slowed. She still had that hopelessly dreamy look, her posture relaxed. He didn't know what it was but he didn't like this look on her.

It was the exact same look she had on that night, the night she could finally say 'The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain'. Mrs Pierce had, in actual fact, banged on his door later, after putting Eliza to bed. She had asked him to talk to Eliza, complaining that "the poor girl" had been "absolutely giddy" since their lesson, and that she hadn't gone to sleep yet. Henry, being Henry, waved her off and asked Mrs Pierce to talk to Eliza herself but Mrs Pierce insisted it was him that went to see her. "Believe me, Sir, I've seen this look on young women before." _Whatever did she mean by that?_ "Oh, tosh, Mrs Pierce. Tell her goodnight from me then, if that makes things any better." She nodded and left.

Not long after, Mrs Pierce once again went up to his room and knocked. "Sir, I've seen the girl and told her you said goodnight." Henry opened the door. "And? Any improvement?" Mrs Pierce looked at him for a moment. "She squealed and hugged her pillow when I told her. The poor girl fell onto her bed, grinning like a little schoolgirl. She fell asleep smiling." Mrs Pierce gave the Professor a smirk. "Goodnight, sir," she nodded in his direction. And with that she left. Whatever was the matter with all the women in the house all of a sudden? Why were they being so cryptic?

Henry brushed away the thought and returned his attention to the girl sitting in front of him. "Eliza," he said, tentatively.

"Yes?" she breathed. She looked as though she had just broken out of a daydream.

"Your - your cheeks are colouring," he stammered. He didn't know what else to say.

"Are they?" she whispered, feeling her cheek with one hand. She felt the heat creep up her face as her head slowly cocked to one side. She bit her lower lip, trying to supress a smile. All of a sudden, she didn't feel so angry with the Professor. No, in fact, she felt... odd. But it was a nice kind of odd. The kind of odd that just... took time.

She continued gazing at him.

It was _pleasant_, whatever it was. Eliza didn't think she had ever felt like that before, ever.

However, the longer she stared at him, the odder she felt. So much so, that another unnameable feeling began growing in the pit of her stomach. This feeling was different. Her breathing hitched. She suddenly began to feel very hungry, and she wasn't in the mood for chocolate anymore. There was a strange look in her eyes and her lips curled into a coy smile.

Uh oh. Henry did not like that look. He did not like it at all. "Oh, um, yes, Eliza," said (a very flustered) Henry, getting up from his seat. "Well, the strangest of things do happen at three in morning, it's perfectly understanda – Wha..?" Before he knew it, Eliza had pulled him by the collar and pinned him against the wall.

"Eliza!" Henry roared, shocked at her indecent behavior. What happened to being a good girl? She narrowed her eyes and smirked. "What on _earth_ do you think you're…!" Without a word, she pressed her lips onto his mouth.

He attempted to resist at first but, by George, was she determined! Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him like her life depended on it. He prayed all the noise she was making wasn't _too_ loud, he didn't want anymore unexpected visitors to the kitchen that night. "Henry!" she whimpered against his lips, her brown hair getting tangled between them. Henry broke the kiss.

"Excuse me!" he bellowed, his hands pushing her away from him. He was outraged. "That's _Professor_ Henry Higgins to you, little - hmmph!" She flung both arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He had never seen her so passionate and so, well… _wild._

After a few moments, she broke the kiss and sighed, satisfied. Her breathing was heavy. She seemed short of breath and hell, Henry was too. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her head into the professor's neck, arms wrapped around him.

_What the devil…_

She backed away, straightening her nightgown and fixing her hair. The ribbon on her nightgown had come undone, her brown hair, which was usually always so neat and tidy, had become unruly and messy. On top of that, she had a lovely glow about her. Henry had never seen her like that, and he didn't know why but for some reason it took every ounce of self-control he had to stop him from pouncing on her right then and there.

She bit her lip and smiled at him slyly, knowing full well the effect she was having on him. Her hand pulled at his collar, once again bringing his face close to hers. Their noses touched and she looked into his eyes. "Goodnight, Professor," she purred, her voice low.

And with that, after having one last look at him, she walked out of the kitchen.

Henry stood rooted to the ground, looking confused.

"The strangest of things do happen at three in the morning…" he mumbled to himself as he turned out the light and walked back to his room.


End file.
